


Deletion (Hiatus)

by EnforcerofTyrestsAft (orphan_account)



Series: Sht i need to finish [6]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Angst, M/M, fluff later on, idk I have a lot of feelings on how prowl handles emotions, ish, it gets better soon, no comfort for a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:40:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24235933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/EnforcerofTyrestsAft
Summary: Prowl doesn't handle feeling things, especially for others when it doesn't apply to keeping them alive.Jazz loves him all the same, but it looks like this time he's going to do more to get that through to him.
Relationships: Jazz/Prowl
Series: Sht i need to finish [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1903417
Comments: 14
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

Pulling back wasn’t always easy, but sometimes it was for the best.

Prowl knew how to pull himself away from the problem, to recede his person from the accident and act as though he was never there. Hell, he had made a living of it, before the war and now during the war as well. He was above drawing attention to his person, a quality Prowl enjoyed about himself, but this problem was proving to be difficult.  
Then again, it was Prowl who had decided to be part of the problem from the beginning, he supposed.

He chose to start this...whatever this thing was with Jazz.

He just didn’t expect himself to get so… so attached. 

And that was where he went wrong, Prowl mused as he stroked the back of his servo down a sleeping Jazz’ face-plates. He didn’t pull away from the other bot’s touches, his kisses, his flirting of all things. Prowl hadn’t told the other to stop, to cease with his wandering optics and honeyed words. In the end, Prowl had simply encouraged the worst in Jazz. Well, if you could consider the saboteur cuddled up beside him post-overload the worst in someone.

Prowl softly removed his servo from the others face, before deciding to try to extract himself from his arms as well. He felt Jazz sigh, his EM field pulling away in a fashion Prowl was familiar with. “Ya goin’ already?” Jazz slurred, blue optics slowly coming online. 

Prowl wondered if anyone else had seen Jazz without his visor, or if the luxury was simply his and his alone.

“I have some reports to finish.” Prowl said shortly, the words not entirely ringing true. But if he stayed for longer, Prowl knew Jazz would worm his digits into his plating, making it impossible to leave. “Optimus expects them by this afternoon, and I don’t like to keep him waiting.” Jazz nodded at this, understanding, even if the frown on his lips wasn’t.

“Right, next time then.” The saboteur mumbled, turning away from the SiC. 

Prowl found himself floundering for just a klik, but immediately righted himself. Seeing that there was nothing else to say, Prowl swiftly departed from the other hab.

And if it seemed to onlookers - if there truly were any - that he was fleeing, Prowl would suggest that they checked their optical feed again.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Prowl didn’t know when it became difficult to pull away from Jazz.

All he knew is that it needed to stop, this impulsion to have the other as close as possible. 

Prowl didn’t need to get close to a mech whose job was to spy, to slip into cracks to manipulate and mold others to get information. It was stupid to get close to Jazz, a mech who had so many to go to for a comforting servo. 

A comforting touch and an equally, if not more comfortable berth.

Prowl sighed, leaning back in his chair. He felt his spinal strut sing in relief as he did so, making a purr erupt from his engine as he leaned back a bit more until a satisfying pop rang out. Biting his lower lip, Prowl deleted the thoughts of Jazz in someone else's berth, and moved his processor to more pressing matters. Like when the Decepticons were likely going to attack, or how probible the recruits coming in were going to be useful. But, unfortunately, his thoughts always trailed back to Jazz.

Feeling himself grow agitated, Prowl knew he shouldn't have been surprised when the mech in question waltzed it. 

"Hey, Prowler, got those reports you wanted." Jazz said, oblivious to the irritation that seemed to circulate around the SiC. It pissed Prowl off, but only by so much.

“It’s Prowl,” the bot grumbled as he accepted the report pad from the saboteur, quickly opening them to administer them into his processor. Jazz hummed to himself, almost like a chuckle, as he waited patiently for Prowl to regard him once more.  
Prowl knew he was waiting, but cycled through his processor for the best way to get the other to leave without coming off as rude. He didn't need to anger the other, or for Jazz to ignore his request and try to get Prowl to open up about why he was being so cold. It wasn't right, to Prowl, for him to be callous a day after sharing intimacy with the saboteur.  
He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't notice Jazz sliding up behind him, until he felt servos begin to message his aching shoulders. Prowl let out a sigh, optics flickering off until he felt lips touch his from upside-down.

What Prowl did next wasn't the smoothest, he would remember. Gasping, he whammed his helm into Jazz's, which caused the both of them to let out a hiss and for Jazz to stumble a few paced back. Prowl chose this moment to get up from his chair, and to shakily walk to the other side of his desk. "Prowler, what was tha' for?" Jazz said, visor bright as he watched the other turn away from him.  
Prowl glared at the wall, lips set in a firm line. Many things came to his processor to say, but he swallowed them down and simply settled for, "Jazz, you know I requested we don't start anything in my office.". 

And didn't that get a reaction from the other. 

Jazz scowled, something Prowl could hear in his tone, and knew to be wary of. "I was just kissin' you, mech. Not feelin' up your doorwings." He huffed, still rubbing his helm. Turning around, Prowl crossed his arms over his chassis. He knew it looked like a defensive gesture, but he couldn't bring himself to care as he held the Jazz's optics.  
"Someone could have walked in." Prowl rebutted, optics flaring a bit before he dimmed them a bit. "We must retain a professional relationship, even behind closed doors." Jazz pouted, crossing his arms much like Prowls'. "Prowler, it's almost the end of the day cycle. I was just comin' to get you so you don't go sleepin' in your office again." Prowl flicked a doorwing at that, his face pinching a bit in thought. "There are still a few joors left until I need to recharge." Prowl retorted, which caused Jazz to heave a sigh.  
"Yeah, until you flop over on your desk, you mean." The saboteur mumbled loud enough for the other to hear.

The two stood like that for a few kliks, almost in a stand-off, until Prowl turned around and marched out the door. 

He didn't stop when Jazz called out to him, simply hunched himself, doorwings high to show his displeasure. Prowl was well aware he was maybe acting a little like a sparkling; but he didn't need Jazz of all Mecha to tell him when to recharge. If anything, that was Ratchet's job, or his medical codes locking him in his habsuite job.  
Jazz seemed to stop at his office door, probably seeing a lost cause like many did. It stinged, but Prowl knew better. Jazz wasn't different, he didn't care. 'But if he didn't care, why would he check on you even if you aren't sharing a charge?' his traitorous processor thought, before he deleted it.  
What Jazz and he did behind closed doors was no one's business, but Jazz seemed to want to broadcast it across the entire base for some reason.  
It confused him, something Prowl didn't like to be. Stopping at his hab and making sure no one had followed him, Prowl entered his code before entering and locking the door behind him. 

Prowl knew his relationship with Jazz was just a berth thing, always physical and never emotional.

And so what if Jazz held him when he sometimes got purges about Praxus, or when he quietly sung along with Jazz when the heat was gone and he basked in the warmth of the other? Jazz had other berth mates, while Prowl never needed one in the first place.  
But no matter how much he repeated how he didn't need anyone, Prowl knew he had never been so relaxed until Jazz slipped into his life.  
Snapping his helm up, Prowl smiled bitterly.  
Maybe that was it. Jazz wasn't only doing damage control. It was part of his job as Third-in-command. Keep the Second in check, make everyone happy. Prowl wondered what kept him from seeing the truth for so long. 

Maybe it was the fact that he thought Jazz actually liked him? That Jazz wanted to be around him, to trade jokes and to hold him close when they recharged together? Prowl scoffed at how unassuming he had been. No one really liked being around him much, not even Bluestreak or Smokescreen. 

And Prowl was fine with that. 

He didn't need anyone. As long as he kept others alive, even if they grumbled at him for being a tight-aft, Prowl was fine. It was fine. 

And with that, Prowl nodded and climbed into his berth, ignoring the watering in his optical feed as he powered down for tonight. And when he woke up, he would deal with deleting the overall emotions he held for Jazz.

\---------------------------------------------------------

He felt more tired than when he woke up, if Prowl was being honest with himself. 

There was a small hitch in his engine, easily ignorable, as he eased himself up from his berth and slowly got onto his knees. Prowl slipped a servo under his berth until he hummed under his breath with it knocked into something, before grabbing it and pulling it out.  
It was a medium sized metal box, padlocked twice and embedded with a code. It was easy for him to get into, definitely impossible for others.  
After unlocking and entering the code to the box, Prowl smiled softly to himself before getting to work. He only had a few joors before he was back on his own shift, and he wasn't going to waste too much of it remembering what was lost.

Most of what was inside were trinkets he never put out for display. A model kit from a friend long since past, a few pictures and crystals from the crystal garden, and...a good sized crimson red crystal, right along side a deep blue and purple one.  
Prowl held in a wince, remembering his once off relationship with Barricade.  
He had once thought he would settle down with the ex-enforcer Con, until he had learned of his corrupt ways; among other things.  
While the breakup had been messy, more on Barricades' part than his, Prowl traced the red crystal with a digit. It stood for love, the burning kind that left you gasping for air, the purple for devotion and blue for, well… in Barricades' words, it had reminded him of Prowls' beautiful optics. It had been silly at the time, but now it just felt like his spark was burning itself up.  
Dismissing the crystals altogether, Prowl dug around until he pulled out a box. It was the size of his servo, with colorful cords dangling from the back of it. 

The box had helped him arrest Barricade, so now it would help him get rid of these unuseful feelings he had for Jazz. After all, the box was designed to mute any feelings he had at all. The mech who had made it had been cautious at first, mumbling something about dealing with emotions another way was better that just getting rid of them altogether, but had built it for Prowl in the same breath.  
Thankfully, the mech was trustworthy, (after a million reviews of his profile, his work and talking to a few others who had purchased the same product from him), Prowl knew the box was legit. Legally, probably not, but it helped Prowl with his work, and that is what he needed right now.

Not Jazz occupying his thoughts, when he knew Jazz was only by him to keep him in check. They weren't even friends, if Prowl thought hard enough.  
Biting the inside of his cheek, Prowl attached the wires to his processor and flicked it on. Pushing the saboteur to the front of his thoughts and shutting everything else behind hard firewalls, Prowl sighed in relief when he felt his spark start to calm down into a steady beat. 

Thoughts of Jazz's smile, his blue optics he hid behind his visor. His warmth, his security. The whispers the two had shared over the last few years, even before Earth. Everything. Prowl felt it slip from his processor and into the box, a smile on his lips as the information did so.  
It was best to forget this kind of thing, it only made him hesitate.  
He didn't need anyone to treat him like he was glass, to hold his face and press a gentle kiss to his lips. To tell him they cared about him.  
Onlining his optics, (when had he offlined them?), Prowl lightly tugged the wires from the box.  
His processor felt lighter, it running data much better that it had in a while. 

Prowl raised a brow at that, frown marrowing his lips. 'How much of my time did Jazz take up?' he thought with a sigh, before returning the box to his trinkets and closed the other box up, engaging the code and locks once more before shoving the box back under his berth.  
Getting back to his pedes, Prowl dusted himself off before a ping rang out. Seeing as his tanks were low, Prowl made his way to the rec-room for some energon. Hopefully nothing would go arwy with that, although Prowl didn't know why it would.

He was just getting energon, after all.


	2. Realization

It was thankfully quiet when Prowl entered the rec room, just a few mechs questered in a corner, and Blasters' cassettes playing something on the t.v.   
He kept his doorwings fanned out a bit, setting his lips in a firm line as he made his way to the energon dispenser. But before he could draw himself a cube, he felt arms wrap around his waist faster than his doorwings could sense it.   
With a crack of his sensor panels jolting back, and a sharp yelp coming from behind him, Prowl spun on his heel to glare at the offender. 

Jazz was rubbing the sides of his face, visor a little foggy. "What was tha' for, mech?" Jazz said, "I haven't spooked you that good since I first met you!" Prowl simply sighed, before bringing his cube to his lips and drained it a bit.   
Once his visor cleared up, Jazz smiled at him brightly. Prowl could see that there was a bit of concern in it, which was odd, but it annoyed him all the same. Humming, Prowl turned and made his way to one of the tables in the back, but still near the rec room door if he needed to leave. Jazz easily followed him, quickly grabbing a cube as well and settled next to him.

Prowl held in a frustrated growl, holding himself still as he tried to finish his cube at a steady pace. His lips never fully left it, but he could tell Jazz was simply going to wait until he was done. With a sigh, Prowl decided to bite the bullet.   
"So," he hummed as he set his half-empty cube down, "do I need a minder to make sure I drink my energon now?" He tried not to smirk when Jazz jolted, that smile of his disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. "Ah, come-on Prowler. You know I like havin' a cube with you." Jazz said, a bit of false joy in his voice. Prowl easily honed in on it, causing him to let out a small snort.   
"Then I'm sorry that I don't appreciate it." Prowl commented, before drinking the rest of his cube quickly and got up. "But I wasn't aware you followed Prime's orders so adamantly." That had the saboteur frown, as he got up as well. "Prowl, Prime doesn't have to order me to sit with ya. I like doin' it all on my own." Jazz had a pinched look on his face, at least from what Prowl could see despite the visor.   
Holding in a scoff, Prowl simply raised a brow in disbelief.   
At that, Jazz looked away for a moment.   
"I'm not sorry for naggin' you for sleepin' in your office. It's not good for you to do that, Prowler, bad for the back struts an' all that."   
Lips twitching, Prowl let out a sigh.

It was better to do this now, less to clean up later and more time for him to get used to the glares and whispered words that were surely to start if Jazz were to speak of it.

“I think its best to end our arrangement.” The words made his spark lurch, but it wasn’t anything Prowl wasn’t used to. It had happened in a similar manner when he had ended it with Barricade, the same when he had arrested him. Just because it hurt more didn’t mean a thing. It didn’t.  
Watching as Jazz leaned back in his seat, Prowl crossed his arms over his chassis.   
“It doesn’t benefit either of us anymore, and I think ending it here will be best.” Prowl continued, looking away from the other.   
Jazz finally seemed to break from the trance he was in. “Benefit? Prowler, is it that hard to believe that I just like being aroun’ ya?” Jazz got up from his seat, a deep frown etched onto his lips. “What happened? It isn’t like you to just-” “Nothing happened.” Prowl cut in, voice hard. A sharp smile made its way onto his lips, one Jazz was familiar with and had never had it directed at him before.  
It was one where Prowl was set on what he said, that it was facts and the mech wouldn’t be swayed for nothing. It scared Jazz, not that he would say it outloud.  
“Nothin’? This doesn’t seem like nothing, Prowl.” Jazz said pointedly, shoulders squaring.   
Prowl huffed, doorwings held high. “Is it that hard to believe that I simply don’t want to have you looming over my shoulder anymore?” 

Jazz was taken aback, and expression of confusion and hurt on his face as plain as day. Prowl almost regretted his words from how the saboteur looked; but he held his ground. 

“I don’t need to be babysat. I don’t need some mother-hen to be constantly hovering over me.” Prowl said as he took a step away. “You’re kind, Jazz.” Prowl softly said. “But your kindness is wasted on me.” 

And with that, Prowl turned on his heel and walked out of the rec room, quickly putting his cube in the trash bin as he did so. Finally allowing his doorwings to rest, Prowl jolted in surprise when he felt a servo latch onto his shoulder and spin him around. He instinctively forced space between him and the mech who had dared to grab him.   
Jazz held up his servos in surrender, visor dimmed. “We need to talk about this, mech.” Jazz said in a pleading tone. “And really talk. Not just you saying it's over and me just accepting it.”   
Prowl scoffed, trying to hide that his processor had hit a wall.   
It wasn’t supposed to go this way. Jazz, like Barricade, was supposed to stay there, to ignore him and accept that their ‘relationship’ was over. Even if Barricade had done the same thing, albeit more violently than the saboteur standing before him.   
“It isn’t as complicated as you are making it, Jazz. We shared a berth, and I’m ending it. There is nothing more to say.”   
Jazz opened his mouth to say something else, but paused when Ironhide, along with Optimus, suddenly came into view.  
Prowl seemed to notice as well, and came to stand at attention when seeing their leader giving them an odd look. “Good Morning, the both of you.” Optimus said, nodding at his second and third carefully. “What seems to be the problem here?”   
Ironhide laughed, optics crinkling at the edges as he nudged Optimus in the side. “Ah think they’re jus’ having a little lovers spat, Prime.” The red mech said, which immediately put Prowl on the defense. 

“It’s nothing of the sort, Jazz and I were just having a disagreement.” Prowl said, taking another step back. “And I’m late for my shift on the bridge. I apologise, Prime.” Optimus waved him off, but he still looked a little unsure as he looked at the lost look in Jazz’s optics.  
“Think nothing of it, Prowl.” Optimus said, watching as Prowl quickly walked away.   
He turned his attention back to Jazz, something in his spark not setting right with him as he saw the mech clinch his fists and slowly deflate.   
Ironhide seemed to notice the same, sharing a look with Optimus, brow raised. 

Ironhide coughed, opticing the Prime and tilted his helm to continue on the way to the rec room. Optimus frowned, something the red mech could feel, but did as he asked.   
Placing a servo on the saboteurs shoulder, Ironhide managed a smile when Jazz looked up to him. "So, rough break up?" He inquired, stifling a frown of his own when Jazz shook his helm. "I'm not sure what jus' went on." Jazz confessed, servos clinched at his sides. "Mech just blew up, blew me off, then told me that we ain't nothin'." Ironhide raised a brow at that.  
"What do ya mean? It ain't like Prowl to just blow up, ya know." Ironhide said, confused. 

Jazz huffed. "Then he said we were nothin'! That he didn't need a minder to babysit him." Jazz tried to keep the growl from his throat, he really did, but it slipped at it had the red mech take a step back.   
"I love him, 'Hide. I thought of all Mecha he'd see it." Jazz finished, visor dim. 

"But did ya ask. If he, ya know, liked ya back. Or did ya just treat him just like all yer others?" That had Jazz pause, lips parting a bit. "Did ya even tell him that ya stopped seeing other mechs cause yer serious? Or did ya expect Ol' Prowl to see that all on his own?" Jazz sighed, slumping.  
Ironhide tsked. "Well, Ah wouldn't go rushin' after him. Give him some time." Giving him a pat on the backplates, Ironhide smirked down at him, before turning to leave. "And try to think of someways to court him. No bullslag this time." And with that, Ironhide went into the rec room.

Jazz gave a wry smile as the other left, looking down the hall which Prowl had departed down.   
Ironhide was right, in more ways than one. Jazz should have known Prowl hadn't picked up on his feelings from the beginning. The way the other never stayed over after an interface, or declined when Jazz had offered to hang out with him in his office. Or just hang out in general. The Praxian had blown off his multiple attempts at possible dates. And Jazz prided himself in knowing what Prowl was thinking just by looking at his optics, the flick of a doorwings even. But the past few days...Prowl had never seemed so cold.

Frowning, Jazz made his way to his hab, processor already forming ideas on how to show the Praxian that he was more than serious about their relationship.


End file.
